Falling
by dark-renegade-angel
Summary: High school AU. "Dean passed the papers to the boy sitting on his left, glancing up absently. Their eyes met. Dean's breath caught."
1. Chapter 1

Castiel rolled over, slamming his palm over the off button on his alarm clock. He sighed in the sudden silence, glancing blearily at the display. 6:30am, September 3rd. Today was the first day of Senior year. "Shit." He tumbled out of bed and grabbed a prescription bottle from his bedside table. He swallowed the small green and white tablet and replaced the lid, before heading towards the bathroom for a shower. He tried to supress the dread and panic he felt at the mere idea of returning to Lawrence High. Castiel wasn't unpopular, he had friends. But he wasn't exactly Captain of the football team. He was just..._there. _His high school days were mostly spent keeping his head down and focusing on getting his grades. Once he had those...he could leave Lawrence and never look back. 'Just _one_ more year', he thought to himself, reaching for the shampoo.

After as long a shower as he could justify, Castiel threw on the first clothes he found in his wardrobe- an oversized blue sweater over a plain white shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans. He pulled on his scuffed Dr Martens, grabbed his leather jacket and assessed himself in the mirror on the back of his door. Castiel ran a hand through his unruly black hair, sighing in exasperation when it refused to lie flat. He grabbed his bag and left the room. To his relief, he found the house quiet, his siblings not yet awake. "Thank God." He muttered, before slipping out the front door, and climbing onto his bike. He kicked it into life, twisting the handlebars, and headed for Hell.

He climbed off the bike and looked around the almost deserted parking lot. He was early. Running his hand through his hair again, he consulted his schedule to see who he was with for homeroom. He hoped it wasn't- "_Shit._" It was. Mr Zachariah. Of course. Castiel's heart sank at the inevitability of the situation. 'Typical. A whole year of that imperious bigot,' he thought, bitterly, making his way to class.

Room 102 was empty. Castiel made his way to the desk by the window- in the third row, so as to maintain a careful distance from Mr Zachariah's desk. He slumped into the chair and gazed out across the playing field, hoping the year would pass quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

"DEAN, WOULD YOU HURRY UP? WE'RE GONNA BE LATE, JERK!"

Dean Winchester dashed out of the house and into the Impala, cramming a piece of toast into his mouth, and calling out a largely incoherent "Bye Mom, Bye Dad!" to his parents. Slamming the driver's side door shut, he turned to grin at his younger brother. "I'm right here, Sammy, geeze. Bitch." Sam scowled, but the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, giving him away. Chuckling in amusement, Dean started the ignition and pulled out of the driveway, Led Zeppelin II blaring from the speakers of the classic car. Sam complained loudly at the noise, but Dean knew he was enjoying it, really. They kept up a constant stream of bickering all the way to Lawrence High, where Dean parked the Impala and the brothers got out. "Bye, Dean!" Sam hurried off to join the other freshmen. Dean paused in the act of locking the car, and watched his brother, laughing with his friends. Today was Sam's first day of High School. Sam was only 14, but he was already about the same height as Dean, and still growing. He was so caring, selfless, and intelligent. There wasn't a thing, past or present, that Dean would put in front of Sam. Not one.

Dean smiled, vibrant green eyes shining, and turned away, shaking his head. He shrugged on his letterman jacket and pulled his schedule from his bag, glancing down to see who he had to deal with for the next year of homeroom. All the while he was utterly oblivious to the stares he was attracting from passing girls- and a few guys. With his perfect, chiselled jawline, artfully tousled blond hair, wide green eyes and shapely mouth, Dean Winchester was close to physically perfect. He hummed to himself, scanning the schedule, until he saw the name 'Mr Zachariah ' printed underneath 'Homeroom'. Shit. That stuck-up son of a bitch. He tucked away the schedule with a frown, and made his way towards room 102, setting off across the grass, glancing at his watch.

Dean rushed into the classroom just as the bell went. Mr Zachariah was already standing in front of the class, about to begin his talk. He threw an irritated glare at Dean, but allowed the intrusion, as he was technically on time. Dean scanned the room for an empty seat, and saw Jo waving at him. She had saved him one in the third row, between herself and a dark haired boy Dean didn't recognise. Smiling and waving off his classmates' enthusiastic greetings, he made his way over, and sat down. Mr Zachariah began to talk, brandishing a stack of papers, and Dean tuned out. He came to when Jo passed him the stack. He took them, removing one and giving it a precursory glance, before turning in his seat.

Dean passed the papers to the boy sitting on his left, glancing up absently. Their eyes met. Dean's breath caught.


	3. Chapter 3

He was staring into pure _blue_...endless blue.

A pair of blazing, mesmerizing, deep blue eyes, framed by a set of thick black Wayfarer glasses.

Dean couldn't move- couldn't think. All he could do was continue to stare, dumbfounded. Time seemed to suspend, and the world stood still. Dean was captivated. All of a sudden, there was only _him._ The, as yet, nameless boy. He was tall and slim, though his body was clearly well toned. He had thick, midnight black hair, which was mussed and tousled, making him look like he'd just tumbled out of bed, and after staying out 'til at least 3am. The impression wasn't helped by the dark purple circles under his eyes, the untucked shirt under a lopsided sweater, and the leather biker jacket slung over the back of his chair.

In short, he was absolutely beautiful, and effortlessly so.

'Holy shit, he must be an angel,' Dean mused, finally collecting himself. Time began to move once more, and the moment was over- the boy lowered his gaze, glancing down to Dean's outstretched hand. He reached out, taking the pile from Dean, removing his own sheet before passing the rest to the girl sitting behind him.

Dean used the release to gather his breath, turning back to face the front, his mind reeling from the encounter...did he really just think the boy was an angel? What was _happening_? Dean Winchester liked _girls_. Girls, with boobs and high heels and long hair and lots of perfume. _Not_ dudes. Especially not stupidly attractive dudes with otherworldly, soul searching eyes, sex hair, glasses and leather jackets...

* * *

Castiel placed the sheet into his folder, and continued to gaze absently of the window, completely oblivious to Dean's transfixion. He felt sick, and he was exhausted from tossing and turning all night- nausea and insomnia being common side effects of the Prozac he was on. Everything felt far away. Vague. Unclear. It was like being underwater. Castiel dragged a hand through his messy hair, sighing in frustration. Dean heard him sigh, and turned to study him for a moment. The boy looked really miserable. Dean bit his lip, hesitating. But, dammit. He wanted to hear his voice. He needed to know his name. "Hey." He ventured, casually, watching the boy warily.

Castiel turned round to face his neighbour, cursing mentally. He was not in the mood for conversation. And anyways, what could Dean Winchester- _Captain of the football team, most popular boy in school, womanizer, and obnoxious moron_- possibly want to talk to him about? He raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "uh...hey." He responded. He assessed the other boy for a moment. It was certainly no secret as to _why_ Dean Winchester was so popular with the ladies. His face was dazzling; glorious. He had the most striking, breath-taking bright green eyes, flecked with hints of hazel and gold. His dark blond hair was luscious- aurous where the classroom strip lights reflected off of it. Looking at Dean was like looking into the sun.

Castiel drew in a breath, waiting. Dean smiled, eyes crinkling warmly. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester." He held out a hand. Castiel hesitated, before reaching out and shaking the offered hand. "Castiel Novak."

Castiel. The name was elegant; graceful. It suited him down to the ground. Dean was taken aback by Castiel's _voice_. It was deep and rough; like gravel. Like he'd spent the whole of last night screaming himself hoarse... Dean abruptly cut off that train of thought as he felt arousal pool in his belly. "Castiel, huh? Haven't heard that one before. What does it mean?" Dean asked, genuinely curious. Cas smirked, wryly. "It's the name of an angel. The Angel of Thursday. I was born on a Thursday, so...my siblings are all named after angels, too. Blame my parents." Dean chuckled. "How many siblings you got?"

"Si- five. Five. Four brothers- Michael, Gabriel, Sam and Balthazar. One sister- Anna." Castiel cursed himself. He'd almost slipped up.

Dean let out a low whistle. "Jesus." His eyes widened. "Wait- Sam? My little brother's a Sam, too. But Sam and Anna aren't angel names, are they?"

"Oh, really? Well, Sam and Anna, are actually Samandriel and Anael. Can you really blame them for wanting nicknames?" Castiel rolled his eyes, and Dean laughed. "No, guess not. Geeze. Are your folks really religious or something?" Castiel's smile faded. "Yes. Really, really..._really_ religious." He frowned lightly. Dean watched him, but he didn't elaborate, and he didn't question it. 'Maybe he's not that arrogant after all.' Castiel thought to himself, only realising he was smiling unconsciously at the other boy, when Dean smiled back. "And...you're not?" Dean pried. He was truly intrigued by the beautiful boy. Castiel shook his head, slowly. "No. I'm not." Dean looked at him sympathetically.

The bell rang, and the class rose, grabbing their bags and jackets. "See ya later, Cas." Dean smiled at him, before leaving the classroom, flanked by Jo and Lisa.

"Goodbye, Dean." Cas stared after the boy for a second, before gathering his things and hurrying into the hallway, heading to Math. Cas? He considered the nickname. It was new. He liked it.


	4. Chapter 4

The final bell rang, and Dean hurried gratefully out of Math class. He collected his things from his locker, and walked to the parking lot, sitting on the hood of the Impala while he waited for Sam. Dean looked around, idly passing the time checking out the other vehicles. He waved to a few of his friends as they headed towards their cars, shouting goodbyes his way.

Castiel walked past without noticing him, distractedly fumbling around in his bag for his keys. Dean watched him wistfully, wondering what kind of car the kid drove. So when he swung his leg over the seat of a glossy black motorcycle, Dean's was awestruck. He whistled to himself appreciatively. "Hot _damn_." As if Cas wasn't already alluring enough. Dean watched in fascination, as Castiel started his bike, and flew out of the parking lot.

* * *

Sam peered curiously at his brother. Dean had been oddly silent since they'd gotten in the car. He hadn't even put on any music, and he kept tapping his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel. "What's up with you, Dean?" Dean started, looking at Sam incredulously, before fixing his gaze on the road. "What? Nothing. Why?" Sam shrugged. "You're quiet. And you've decided not to prematurely deafen me with Metallica today, for some reason." Dean laughed at that, relaxing. "Bitch." He shot at his little brother, playfully. "Jerk." Sam automatically replied. "So, Sammy, how was it? Your first day?" Sam smiled. "Great. The teachers are ok, and I made some friends. Schedule doesn't suck too bad, and I like the classes so far." Dean nodded at the summary. "Good. Little nerd like you, I'm sure you'll do great." Sam rolled his eyes. "Nice try, by the way." He looked across at Dean, eyebrows raised.

Dean frowned in confusion. "Nice try...at what?" Sam sighed. "Changing the subject, Dean." He stated obviously. It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes and sigh. "Seriously, Sammy. Nothing's up. Just...I kinda...I met someone." Dean explained, cautiously. He knew Sam wouldn't be even mildly fazed by Dean's fixation on a _boy_, but honestly- Dean was having trouble accepting it himself. It felt... unfamiliar. Dean had never considered the possibility of liking _boys_, because he'd always been so attracted to _girls_. But there was something about Cas. Something extraordinary_. _Dean didn't know exactly what it was yet- Castiel was something of an enigma. But he was hell-bent on finding out.

"What's her name?" Sam asked. Normally, he wouldn't bother. Dean's conquests rarely lasted past the one week- or one _night_ mark. But he'd never seen Dean so affected by any girl, ever. And after just one day? Something told Sam this time was different. Dean shifted slightly in his seat. He wasn't sure he was ready for this talk. He avoided his brother's eyes. "Uh...Cassie." He said the first thing he could think of, wincing at the unconvincing lie that escaped him. Luckily, Sam didn't notice. "Cool. What's she like?" Dean, caught off guard, fumbled wildly inside his head for something to say. Coming up blank, he decided to be ambiguous. A pair of deep blue eyes drifted to the forefront of his mind as he pulled up in the driveway of the Winchester's house. "I dunno, Sammy. Haven't really gotten the chance to speak to her much yet. But she's...breath-taking. I mean, seriously- like, wow. Got the most incredible set of blue eyes. Bluest blue imaginable. She rides a motorcycle, she has this gorgeous, messy black hair...I dunno, Sam. She's just...something else." Sam smiled at his brother sincerely, trying to look encouraging. Dean was clearly smitten. "She sounds really great, Dean." He said quietly. Dean turned to him, smiling thoughtfully. "Yeah, Sammy. She is."


	5. Chapter 5

Cas slammed the front door behind him, and trudged wearily up the stairs to his bedroom. He threw his stuff onto his bed and collapsed, face down, with a groan. How was it _possible_ to be given so much work- and on the first day of the semester? His mobile rang, startling him. He sat up abruptly, stopping for a moment as the room spun around him. He took a deep breath, and waited the world to right itself, before reaching into his bag and grabbing the device. Cas stared at the display. He scrambled to his feet, darting across his room to shut the door. Leaning back against the wood, he closed his eyes and answered the phone.

"Lucas." He acknowledged resignedly.

"Hello, little brother." Lucas's voice was soft, gentle. Just as Castiel remembered it.

"Luke..." Cas sighed in frustration, hitting his head against the door. "We already discussed this. You have to stop calling me. If Mother and Father find out..." He murmured, trying to keep his voice down.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I know it's risky. But I haven't spoken to you in so long...and I haven't seen you in longer. I miss you."

Castiel bit his lip. "...I know. I miss you too. We all do." He said sadly.

"It's just...well, I worry about you, brother." Lucas admitted.

"I know. But you shouldn't." Castiel tried to convince him, half-heartedly.

"Cas..." Lucas's voice was disbelieving.

"Really. Luke, I'm fine." he lied. "Anyway, as if you didn't have enough to worry about already." He shook his head.

"Cas, you're my brother. I will always worry. About you, especially- you know why." Castiel started, recognising his father's footsteps approaching the room. "Shit, Lucas-I- I have to go."

"Cas-" He ended the call, spinning to face the door just as it began to open.

"Castiel." Emmanuel Novak stood in the doorway. Ironically, Lucas was the sibling who held the strongest resemblance to him. Emmanuel had cold, ice blue eyes and light blond hair. He possessed a sanctimonious, self-righteous air, clear in his expression when he looked at his son with thinly veiled distaste. His glacial eyes darted immediately to the phone in Castiel's left hand, suspicion crossing his face. "Who were you talking to?" Cas shrugged, wide-eyed. "Just a classmate, father. He wanted to clarify something about our homework assignment." Emmanuel scrutinised Castiel for a moment, looking unconvinced. Cas held his breath, waiting. After a beat, Emmanuel gave a curt nod, and Cas exhaled discreetly. "Alright, Castiel. Now, Reverend Uriel is coming for dinner tonight. Your Mother and I expect you and your siblings to be at the table promptly at 7pm. That means you must be in smart clothing, and on your best behaviour. Do I make myself clear, Castiel?" Cas nodded meekly, looking at the ground. "Yes, father."

* * *

Just like Emmanuel had said, at exactly 7pm that night, Castiel and his five siblings were seated at the large, round teak dining table. They were seated in age order- so on Cas's left were Michael, Gabriel, and Balthazar, and on his right, Anna and Samandriel. Lucas's seat, between Michael and Gabriel, remained empty as a silent reminder of his banishment. Castiel exchanged tense glances with his older brothers, as they waited for their parents to arrive with the Reverend. Reverend Uriel came for dinner nearly once a week, preaching the so-called 'word of God', as Mr and Mrs Novak hung on his every word. Emmanuel and Naomi clearly hoped he would have some sort of lasting positive influence on their children. Cas smirked to himself at the idea. 'If only they knew what we're really like. _Especially_ me.' He thought.

His mind jumped to the stash of illegal substances hidden in his room. Cas had something of a...reputation for promiscuity, drinking and taking drugs. It was his coping mechanism. He tried every way he could think of to distract himself. He really didn't want to think about what would happen if his parents ever found out. He'd be cast out of the family just like Lucas, that was for sure. Thankfully, Cas's siblings covered up for him, making up lies and providing alibies when he stumbled home in the early hours of the morning. His older brothers had collected him from an assortment of parks, bars and clubs, in varying states of consciousness. They'd revived him when he'd accidentally overdosed, and tried their best to limit his drug use, and keep him safe. It never worked, but they tried nonetheless. Without them...Cas knew he'd probably be dead by now. Anna and Samandriel were kept largely in the dark about Cas's problems. He didn't want to disturb or influence them, despite how unashamed he acted around his older brothers. Thanks to Michael, Gabriel, Luke and Balthazar, Castiel's parents remained utterly clueless as to his behaviour. They had no idea that even tonight, he was planning on sneaking out of the house.

They also didn't know that Castiel was gay, had three tattoos, and was- in his own words- a 'practising atheist.'

Cas bit back another smile as the adults entered the room. On cue, the Novak siblings pushed their chairs back and rose to their feet, waiting until their parents and the Reverend were seated before regaining their places. Castiel let his attention wander as the Reverend began to say grace. His mind drifted towards thoughts of green eyes, blond hair, and 1967 Chevy Impalas. Thoughts of Dean. Cas couldn't understand why he was suddenly so fixated on the boy. Sure, he was good looking. And okay, maybe 'good looking' was a huge understatement. But still. They'd only shared a single, short conversation- at least, so far. So what was it then? What was it about Dean Winchester that meant Cas couldn't shake him from his mind?


	6. Chapter 6

"What's up with you?" Dean startled and glanced quickly across the table at his father. "Wha-...uh, nothing, Dad. It's- nothing's up." He stuttered, caught off guard. John scrutinised him for a moment before chuckling warmly, with a light shake of his head. "You're somewhere else today, Dean." Dean shrugged, trying to appear casual. Sam, sitting on the right side of the square dining table, shot him a suggestive smirk, thinking he knew what...or rather _who_ Dean's mind was so preoccupied by. Dean felt guilty for lying to him, but he figured that until he knew where he and Cas stood, it was better not to say too much. He didn't know anything about the elusive boy. A thought struck Dean suddenly. 'Shit, is he even gay? Am_** I** _even gay?' He fidgeted in his seat, nonplussed. Sam was still grinning at him. "Shut it, Sam." Dean grumbled at his brother. Sam's smile only grew wider.

"Dean, don't talk to your brother like that." Mary chastised fondly, walking in and setting a dish in the centre of the table. She pulled off the oven gloves and took her usual seat on the left side of the table, opposite Sam and between Dean and John. She began doling out large portions of fish pie, giving Dean the largest with a conspiratorial, knowing smile. Dean practically lived for pie. "So, how was everyone's day? Sam, honey, how was your first day of high school?" Sam shrugged, but didn't quite manage to hide his smile. "It was great, Mom. I met some cool people."

"Not _too_ cool though, I hope, Sam. Be sure and make friends with nice, hardworking kids, like Jess and Garth, okay? You don't want to get into the wrong crowd." John warned, eyebrows raised. Mary nodded in agreement. Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Dad. I know, don't worry." Mary turned to her eldest son. "Dean? How was your first day of Senior year?" Dean shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of pie. "Not that different from last year. Got a ton more homework, though." Mary smiled at him. "Just keep working hard, Dean. I know you'll do well." Dean smiled tightly, nodding even though he didn't agree.

'I'm not. Don't get your hopes up.' He left unsaid, thinking bitterly to himself.

"And keep up the soccer, Dean. Hopefully you'll get a sports scholarship." John interjected with an appraising look. Dean only smiled wryly, saying nothing.

* * *

After dinner, Sam and Dean helped clear the table before heading to their rooms to start their homework. Dean climbed the stairs and turned left, walking down the hall. He shut his door behind him and threw his bag on the left of the door, in the corner. Dean's room was average sized. There was a cluttered desk against the right wall. It stood between the wardrobe and the bookshelf, which was overflowing more with stacks of records than with books, though a few of Dean's favourite paperbacks were crammed in as well. The wall over his bed was covered with various posters of classic rock bands, from Zeppelin to Styx. Dean crossed the room and sat down wearily on his window seat, grabbing his Biology book and a pen from his desk on his way. He rested the notebook on his knees, and started his homework.

Dean worked solidly for two hours, before finishing and tossing his book on the floor with a sigh of relief. He pulled his phone out and glanced at it, checking the time. He was surprised to see it was already 10:30pm. He stood and pulled off his jeans and top, throwing them in the general direction of his laundry hamper. He couldn't be bothered to pull on a t-shirt. He crossed the hallway cautiously, trying to make minimal noise. Dean brushed his teeth and avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror on the wall above the sink. He walked back to his room and shut the lights, crawling into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly.


	7. Chapter 7

_Just to clarify, all spoken dialogue is in "speech marks", but anything I've written which is contained by 'single apostrophes' is one of the character's direct thoughts._

* * *

Castiel shuffled downstairs early the next morning, already dressed and ready to go. He was wearing the same black jeans and boots he'd worn the day before, but it was surprisingly humid even for Kansas, so he had forgone a sweater and opted for a fitted white t-shirt under his leather jacket instead. Guessing it might rain, he'd swapped his glasses for contact lenses as well. He walked into the huge kitchen at the back of the house, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Michael was already up, sitting at the counter. Cas's oldest brother was classically handsome. He had thick, dark hair and blue eyes like Cas, though Michael's were much lighter, almost a muted gray. "Hey Cassie. You sleep okay?" Cas nodded, leaning back against the closed fridge. "Uh,- I...yeah. Fine." Cas rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, looking fixedly at the floor. Michael saw right through him. "Castiel. Come on. Don't lie. Not to me." He said flatly.

Cas sighed, shaking his head at his brother. "Well, I-no. Not really, Mike. I caught about two hours." Michael's jaw clenched in unhappiness, but he let it go, noting Cas's apprehensive expression. "We'll work on it, Cassie. It'll sort itself out, don't worry." Neither of them were sure who he was trying harder to convince. Cas smiled weakly. "Yeah, I know." He made to leave the room, but Michael stopped him. "Castiel, aren't you going to eat something?" His voice was sharp. Cas winced, turning back around. "Oh.. yeah. Of course." He made a show of buttering a slice of bread, and forcing it down, hyper-aware of Michael watching him to make sure he ate every bite. When he was finished, he put his plate in the dishwasher, and picked up his bag. "I'm off." Michael nodded, giving him a wave. "Have a good day, brother. Oh, there's a huge storm forecast for tonight. Come straight home after school and park your bike in the garage, alright?" Cas nodded. "Got it, will do. See you tonight, Mike."

* * *

Cas parked his bike in his usual spot in the school parking lot, and climbed off. He glanced upwards as he swung his bag onto his shoulder, surveying the sky. Sure enough, dark clouds were already beginning to appear. The air seemed to hum with electricity, almost as if it were charged. Michael had been right to warn him. Cas had lived in Lawrence long enough to sense that the storm was going to be pretty intense, even by the area's usual standards. He meandered across the quad, taking his time as he approached the Humanities building, where Room 102 was located. Once inside, he climbed the stairs up a floor and walked down the empty corridor to the classroom. He was early- Homeroom didn't start for another twenty minutes. He trailed inside, heading for his seat and pulling out his IPod as he went. He sat down, put his earphones in and hit 'Shuffle'.

Cas gazed out of the window, across the playing fields. He was thankful that he didn't feel quite as nauseous and faint as he had the day before. Maybe his body was finally adjusting to the Prozac. Or maybe it was because he hadn't taken anything else today. Well...not _yet_. It wasn't even 8am, after all.

It started to rain lightly. Cas automatically relaxed, letting himself slip into a daydream as he watched the drops hitting the classroom windows.

_"and the rain is falling, and I believe,__  
my time has come,  
it reminds me of the pain,  
I might leave,  
leave behind..."_

Cas was utterly lost in the music. He had the volume turned up to it's maximum setting, and his back was turned to the classroom so he could watch the rain falling against the window. So when he felt someone poking at his shoulder, he started violently. He swivelled in his seat, finding himself face to face with a harassed looking Chuck. Chuck Shurley was one of Cas's closer friends at Lawrence High. He was always tense and on edge, constantly nervous and stressed out. He had pale blue eyes and curly light brown hair, which was uncombed- although the overall effect was not quite as disarming as Cas's perpetual bedhead. Cas pulled out his headphones, turning his IPod off somewhat regretfully.

"Hi Chuck." Chuck smiled tersely. "Hey Castiel." He sat down in the seat beside the dark haired boy. 'Dean's seat.' Cas's mind needlessly supplied. Looking past Chuck, Cas saw that the classroom was beginning to fill up. Charlie Bradbury walked in and waved at him, giving a bright smile. He winked back at her as she took her seat beside Lisa Braeden. Kevin Tran sat down directly in front of Cas, and turned in his seat to join in with the conversation. "Hey guys." Cas smiled at his friend, tipping his chair back, hovering dangerously on it's back legs. "Kevin." He let the front legs fall forward, hitting the floor with a loud 'bang.'

Chuck leaned in conspiringly. "Hey, Castiel. You got anything on you?" He murmured softly, eyes fixed in the direction of the door, looking out for signs of Mr Zachariah. Kevin shook his head at the direction of the conversation, but didn't say anything. Cas looked at Chuck for a long moment. The guy was clearly frazzled- even more so than usual. He probably hadn't had anything for a couple of days, at least. He contemplated Chuck for a moment, gaze inscrutable. Then he nodded. "Meet me at break- you know where." Chuck didn't bother hiding his relief. "Thanks, man." Cas hummed, closing his eyes. "No problem, Shurley." Kevin huffed at the two of them. He opened his mouth to change the subject when something about Castiel caught his attention.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Holy shit- dude! Is that a nose piercing?!" Sure enough, a delicate silver ring pierced Cas's left nostril. He smirked deviously, nodding in confirmation. "Uh-huh." Kevin and Chuck were looking at him in awe. "Woah, how come I haven't seen that before?" Chuck exclaimed, eyes fixed on the piece of jewellery. Cas rolled his eyes. "I got it done months back, it's just I haven't worn it much because of my parents. I have to take it out whenever they're around. You know they'd kill me." Chuck and Kevin exchanged grim looks. They knew what Castiel's parents were like, having been unlucky enough to have met them before on several occasions. Kevin gave Cas a small, sympathetic smile. "So they're out of town again?" Cas grinned at him. "Ten days. Ten whole days of freedom."

His eyes shifted over to the door, as Dean stepped into the room. He walked over, stopping awkwardly in front of the table. Cas nudged Chuck. "Dude. Move."

Chuck looked up and spotted Dean. "Oh- right. Sorry, man." Chuck stood up and went to find his own place, and Kevin turned around to talk to Ash. Dean sat down, trying to ignore the way Castiel's deep, husky voice sent a current of electricity through his body. He turned to the dark haired boy with a disarming smile usually reserved for when he specifically wanted to charm somebody. It had never failed him yet.

"Hey, Cas." Castiel smiled back at him with his own lopsided smirk. "Hi, Dean." He appeared to be completely unaffected. 'Dammit.' Dean mentally cursed. Maybe it only worked on girls. What Dean didn't know was that Castiel had watched him use that tactic several times already, on countless unsuspecting females. He'd unconsciously developed a resistance.

"No glasses?" Dean inquired, leaning back in his seat. He couldn't decide wether Castiel looked better with or without the black frames. Cas looked confused for a moment, squinting at him and tilting his head slightly to the left, before his sleep deprived brain caught up and comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh...no. Contacts." He rubbed his temples absently in a vague attempt to ward off the coming headache. His fingers moved slowly in clockwise circles. Dean found the motion strangely hypnotic. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the IPod still lying on the desk. "What were you listening to?" Dean didn't quite know why, but he was desperate to find out more about Castiel. He figured music taste was a safe place to start.

"Oh, uh, '_Grace_,' by Jeff Buckley." Cas replied, looking back at the green eyed boy. Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Not bad. What other stuff d'you like?" Cas shrugged, biting his lip and looking down as he thought. He didn't notice the way Dean's eyes were drawn straight to his mouth.

"Quite a lot of stuff, I guess. I listen to different things. I'm not really a fan of hip hop, rap or pop though. Or folk. Or... gospel." He shuddered delicately.

Dean laughed, head thrown back, brilliant white teeth showing. Cas stared at him. When Dean laughed like that, it lit up the whole room. It was infectious. He shook himself as soon as he realised what he was thinking. 'Castiel. That's _Dean Winchester_. He's obviously one hundred per cent straight. Don't even _go_ there.' He warned himself. Anyway, even if Dean weren't unwaveringly heterosexual, Cas was hardly well suited for a relationship right now. He didn't need one. He got all the sex he wanted already, and without the emotional investment. Why complicate things? And really. As if anyone in their right mind would ever want a relationship with him, in any case. He was fucked up. Past saving, and too much for any sane person to deal with. Plenty of attractive guys came to him for a good time, but they never exactly stayed to chat afterwards. It was meaningless hedonism, that was all. He had friends, but...he just wasn't special to anybody. He reminded himself every day that he never would be. Maybe it was just as well. He'd only fuck up a relationship. He'd destroy the other person, just like he destroyed everything else. No, it was definitely safer not to get involved. He'd better get used to the concept of eternity alone. Castiel frowned to himself. Why was he thinking about any of this anyway? It had never bothered him before.

Dean shook his head, still chuckling, mistaking Cas's frown to be based on his opinion of gospel music. "And, let me guess. You said your parents are really religious. I'll bet they play gospel music almost _exclusively. _Am I right?" Cas snorted. "Yes. That and classical. You know, Mozart, Beethoven, Bach. I only get to play my own stuff when they're out of town."

"Woah...that really sucks, Cas."

"It does." Cas tilted his head to one side, looking at Dean curiously. "So, what about you? What kind of music do you like?"

'Oh my god, he's fucking adorable.' Dean thought to himself as he observed the gesture. Suddenly he realised what he'd just thought about the BOY sitting next to him, and felt unabashed humiliation creeping up his spine. Dammit, he wasn't gay! Sure, Cas was extremely attractive. And enigmatic, and compelling. He was hot and sexy and adorable-

'Dammit!'

-but Dean Winchester wasn't gay. How could he be? He'd never been interested in a guy before, ever. He'd had numerous conquests, but they'd definitely all been female. He'd long ago earned himself a reputation for being a ladies man. He wasn't gay. He just...wasn't. Anyway, Cas probably wasn't either. He was getting worked up over nothing. No, Dean wasn't gay, and Castiel couldn't be- not with such religious parents. No way. Trying to distract himself, Dean answered Cas's question. "Classic rock and heavy metal. Zeppelin, AC/DC, Sabbath, Motorhead, Styx. Can't beat it."

Cas quirked an eyebrow. "Cool, I like classic rock too. But I _love_ Led Zeppelin." Dean looked at him in amazement. Now he was sure. Cas really _was_ some kind of angel. As he stared, Dean's eyes widened as he noticed Cas's nose ring. The boy rode a motorcycle, had piercings, listened to Led Zeppelin and looked like he'd been out all night. Maybe not a literal angel, then. But he was _perfect_.

Just...well. Male.

Still struck dumb and in awe, Dean just shook his head slowly, gazing at his classmate, not bothering to hide his smile. Cas squinted back at him, confused, his dark haired head still tipped endearingly to the right. How the hell had Dean never noticed him before? He knew, right then, that Castiel was definitely somebody he wanted to know. "Cas? You and me? Let's be friends." He proposed sincerely, ignoring the slight disappointment he felt at his own use of the word 'friends'. Cas contemplated him for a moment, as if he was searching for something in Dean's eyes, before breaking into a wide smile. "Ok." Dean grinned back.

* * *

_The song Castiel was listening to is 'Grace,' By Jeff Buckley._


End file.
